Revenge Of The TechnoNinja
by BattyBigSister
Summary: I guess I always knew something was wrong, but I never guessed it would be this. Coming here, doing this: technically I'm betraying him - but the thing is, he has already betrayed me. WARNING: Contains Yaoi/Shounen-ai. Ita/Saku, Sasu/Naru & Naru/Sasu .
1. Chapter 1a

**Summary**: I guess I always knew something was wrong, but I never guessed it would be this. Coming here, doing this: technically I'm betraying him - but the thing is, he has already betrayed me.

_The Third Shinobi War never went hot, but the feudal lords didn't neglect their hidden villages. In fact they advanced them and bolstered them, pushing forward technology and bringing with it a surprising amount of economic prosperity across the whole continent.  
The result _Cyber-Ninja_: true assassins of the modern era, skilled in everything from technology to murder._

_Corny, I know - but I felt like it. Ita/Saku, Sasu/Naru(& Naru/Sasu too, for you sticklers out there.)_

**Disclaimer**: Naruto, both manga and anime, and any related work do not in any way belong to me. This is a fan-made story, unrelated to the original creators of Naruto, intended purely for the amusement of other fans. No defamation of any sort is intended towards the original manga and anime, its characters and creators or anyone else related to the official Naruto franchise. This work is available for free, on a wholly non-commercial basis, and no profit has been made or is intended to be made by its production and distribution.

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Just something I wrote because I was in a slump and felt like everything I wrote was terrible. I hoped a change of pace might help... Mixed results, I guess...

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Personal Communication Devices buzzed across the classroom, drowning out the twittering of birds outside. Bright sunshine streamed in through the tall arched windows like a fragmented steam of golden rain, dominating the laurel green walls with their cheery beech wood panels and pilasters. It sparkled on the slanted touchscreens of the many beech wood desks raised in semi-circular rows around the teacher's podium.

For once though, nobody was glancing out at the school's lush green sports fields with longing. Girls sat huddled in groups over the rows of glass desk tops, pleats of their skirts riding high up their legs as they bent their heads low to gossip. The classroom's male occupants were no better, slouched in more loose-knit assemblages on whining misused chairs on the pitched floor. Screens flashed on and off as people brought up local news and social networking sites, bending low to read or magnify details from time to time.

Then Uchiha Sasuke opened the door. Time actually froze. Conversation halted. Movement stopped. Each and every person stared at the emergent figure, a lost lonely figure in his forest-green uniform. He ignored them, his eyes fixed on the dull plastic fibres of the carpet. Wordlessly he moved through the sea of silent stares, his hands deep in the pockets of his blazer. His eyes were fixed on the pressed turn-ups of his trousers, his face hidden beneath his unruly black hair. No one said a single word as he passed them, intend simply on climbing through the rows of desks.

Well, not quite no one. Somewhere behind Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Choji, a messy blonde head shot up with a familiar broad grin. A tanned hand waved enthusiastically over the heads of his schoolfellows and there were a series of muffled complaints as he barged through them, unkempt uniform getting more crinkled as he leapt over desks and down the aisles. "Yo," he yelled, jade-striped tie loose as he charged forward. He wasn't even wearing the regulation sweater-vest. "I heard…"

"Shut up, Naruto."

The grin slid from the flushed oval face; its exit made more visible by the drooping of the whisker-like birthmarks on each cheek. Thick, black-lined fingers twitched at the sides of the scuffed trousers. Sasuke had not even looked up as he dismissed him: the harsh, rough tones of his voice sounding colder than usual.

Instead the Uchiha moved away, along one of the thin aisles of desks. One highly polished leather shoe kicked the leg of a chair, knocking it backwards far enough to sit down. It whirred slightly, juddering as the delicate programming struggled to compensate for the rough treatment, but obediently moved back on its tracks inlaid on the floor. A slender hand emerged from one immaculate pocket and fished out a small blue PCD, still attached to its matching headset. For a moment, Sasuke stood still, revolving the contraption aimlessly between his long pale fingers, seemingly staring helplessly at the Uchiha Crest upon it.

It was broadly similar to most of the other Personal Communicators of its generation, but the outer appearance had clearly been customized for its user. A touchscreen took up most of the front and the wireless earpieces clicked neatly onto the back, just above the outline of the familiar white and red fan. Even the screensaver depicted that same symbol, growing periodically larger and smaller against its black background. It seemed to fascinate Sasuke for a minute.

Then he sat down, the back of his blazer barely caressing the pale padding of the seat. In front of him, the glass-fronted touchscreen illuminated itself. A soft drone and the clicking of metal spokes hidden in beech wood announced that chair was adjusting itself to the optimum position for his height and leg length. One miniature Uchiha fan landed on each side of his head as he snapped the earphones from the main body of the PCD, which plugged neatly into a specialised slot on the front end of his desk. A small microphone antenna automatically sneaked out of the left earpiece towards the corner of his mouth. Sasuke absently brought up a playlist on the desk touchscreen in front of him, selecting a song without much thought. Dark, screaming music blared in his ears and his fingers steepled in front of him over the glass, officially designating him as ready to face the lesson… just the same as every day.

Only the look on his face as he stared at the distant screen behind the teacher's desk suggested that anything was out of place. The dark angular eyes spoke of too little sleep and the delicately arched features looked hollow and dead. Sasuke gave the impression of someone caught in a waking nightmare.

In contrast, the rest of the room was still dominated by an awkward shuffling quiet. People shifted clumsily for a good look at the Uchiha, exchanging meaningful glances and nudges with those around them. They didn't appear to notice they were gawking, as everyone seemed to be trying to rubberneck without looking as if they were staring. Naruto gaped helplessly at his friend, motionless in the middle of the walkway with the smile still not back in his face. He seemed at a loss for what to do.

Slowly a pink-haired girl detached herself from a group of her wide-eyed classmates, weaving nervously through the rows of desks towards him. Haruno Sakura, Sasuke's girlfriend since middle school, patted one of the blonde's shoulders absently as she approached him, making Naruto jerk up in surprise at the contact. She blushed and withdrew her hand hurriedly, the crimson-painted nails with their white floral design disappearing into the cuffs of her sleeves.

His face broke out in a small relieved grin instead. He shoved his hands in the depths of his pockets as she hovered around by his side, nodding affectionately in response to her gesture. With a little hesitation she smiled back, but her expression seemed to shrink away just at the sight of lone Uchiha at his desk, her almond-shaped eyes wide with indecision and worry.

She was slender with a medium build and, like everyone else in the room, wearing the regulation forest-green blazer with the Konoha symbol in a lighter emerald on the front pocket. The same shade outlined the one thin stripe at the top of the school-issue knee-high woollen socks, just above the mandatory flat black court shoes. Her tulip-shaped pleated skirt matched the blazer as did the thin ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, decorating the v-neck of her pearl coloured sweater. Her hair, mostly cropped to around the length of her chin with a few longer strands left to frame her face, was pulled back by simple crimson headband that set off her heart-shaped features and brought out the rosiness in her otherwise pale skin.

Right now though that visage was churning with anxiety for the sake of her boyfriend, her figure hunched and withdrawn without a notion of how to help him. Naruto frowned and carefully reached out to pat her shoulder. She froze… and then slowly turned her head, the longer strands of soft pink hair falling across her face and gave him a weak faltering smile of her own.

He grinned in return, raising his eyebrows as he leant forwards and caught her gaze in his own cheerful oval eyes. Then all of a sudden his hand moved behind her shoulder blades and pushed. It was gentle, but firm enough to send her reeling. Startled, she staggered a few steps, but nonetheless picked up the pace on her own, swallowing hard as she approached the seat beside her boyfriend. She slid carefully into the rectangular beech frame with little more than a quiet mechanical whine, her shoulder bumping against the padded backrest as she sat sideways on her seat. Sasuke gave no indication of having noticed her.

Something moved in the row behind them. She turned just in time to see Naruto leap over one protruding desks, landing squarely in the seat on Sasuke's other side. The machinery shrieked in protest at the sudden assault, but minutes later the sound of a loud artificial rhythm and the sudden orange glow of the distant table top suggested that Naruto too had plugged himself in. From what Sakura could see passed the looming figure of her boyfriend, the blond was busily fussing about with his headphones.

She breathed nervously, adjusting her skirt and knew that now was the time to make her move, if she was to stand a chance of being at all helpful. Hesitantly she reached out to touch her boyfriend's shoulder. A timid smile fought for position on her face in what hoped to be a comforting gesture.

He jerked violently, shooting her a glare that froze her breath in her lungs. His face was white, his eyes wide as if in betrayal at her violation of his space. One hand swung up into the air, hanging there limply, the palm angled towards Sakura's face. She flinched before she could stop herself, cowering backwards in her chair. Her insides twisted in a giant knot of ice.

"Knock it off, Sasuke," Naruto barked from somewhere behind the Uchiha, punching him in the side with a scowl. The brunette gasped, his body lurching from the blow. Sasuke stiffened with a slight quiver, pale-faced and blinking like someone woken from a trance. His hand dropped downwards, landing heavily against his thigh. For a moment he simply stared at his frightened girlfriend, as if the sight of her was something new and alien. Then he turned away, facing the front, and folded his arms on the rim of the touchscreen. She was once again successfully ignored.

Sakura sat still, her heart racing so hard it felt like it would tear itself out of her chest. Her mouth seemed unusually dry and her breath came in strangled gasps. She felt cold… and like she was going to be sick. Naruto flashed her a reassuring smile, but she turned away, facing the front with. Her expression was frozen in shock.

People were bundled up in their groups around the classroom, seemingly obvious to what had just transpired. The gossip had started up again too. As the noise washed over her, Sakura thawed and fumbled awkwardly in her pocket, drawing out her bright red PCD with the giant Zero printed on its reverse side. As she hesitantly plugged it into her desk and put on her matching flower-shaped earphones, the last thing she heard was a harsh whisper from someone at the back of the class.

"But it can't be true, can it? The entire Uchiha Clan was massacred? For real?"


	2. Chapter 1b

For the first time she felt like an intruder, as if she had no business being here in this neglected space. It was a sanctuary, a shrine and now the kitchen seemed oddly lonely without Uchiha Mikoto busying herself in it.

Since the very first time Sakura had ever visited the house, the slender woman with long black hair had always been found by one of the stark granite counters, slicing or peeling or tidying or cleaning or washing rice for the next meal. As the sunlight trickled dimly through the closed blinds, leaving the room in dingy brownish-gold, the pink haired girl couldn't help but miss her presence. It seemed strange to think that she would never come in here to be greeted by that gently smiling face again.

One of the few rooms not located just off the beautiful garden courtyard, Mikoto's domain was full of sleek modern appliances in what was otherwise a starkly traditional household. **(_1_)** Displays blinked and gadgets hummed as the motion sensors registered her continued presence and prepared the room for activity. The light on the hidden television mount blinked as the machine switched from inactive to stand-by, ready for anyone who might be interested in its services. Near the window, a small motor spluttered into life, winding up the thin strips of horizontal plastic with a cranking sound. Digital clocks flashed on the refrigerator and oven door, instantly setting themselves to the correct time. Even the coffee machine stirred and hummed, its base glowing in a dim ember-like red as it automatically began to reheat the cold pot that no one had drunk that morning.

The rectangle of invading daylight from the window travelled up her stocking-clad legs until it broke out into the room. Sakura watched with a strange fascination as the kitchen readied itself for the return of a mistress who could never again enter these walls. It was all so domestic, so normal… and yet somehow… the place seemed even emptier now than it had before. It was almost sacrilegious, being here without the Uchiha matriarch. This was her centre, her hub in the family household, the place from which a proud and strong kunoichi **(_2_)** raised a family to be as strong as she was. Sakura was not entirely sure that she belonged here in Mikoto's space.

"Whatcha making, _dattebayo_?" Naruto slouched in the doorway, eyeing the room with a much smaller amount of interest. There was no twisting knot in the pit of his stomach, his friend knew. It was not often that the bright-eyed blonde in his scruffy uniform wondered into this part of the house. He had far less reason too. Sasuke generally refrained from chasing him out of his bedroom the way he invariably expelled his girlfriend.

Instead Naruto was used to spending hours battling the darker haired boy on his console system, typically on some game that involved space shinobi fending off invaders from other stars. The boy's high scores were neck on neck and Sasuke would get so engrossed in keeping his own name ranked above his friend's that he even neglected to make those irritated grunting sounds the way he usually did if his girlfriend dared to move or make a noise within the sanctity of his room.

When Naruto was around, Sakura found herself laughing, joining in the conversation and occasionally even the game, instead of serving drinks and snacks and hurrying away again to help Mikoto in the kitchen. Usually she played against the blonde rather than her boyfriend, as the former tended to have more patience to explain things she didn't understand and didn't get unreasonably infuriated if she couldn't shoot aliens at an acceptable speed.

Not today though. Today had seen the door slammed in both their faces. Neither of them had really been surprised. The Uchiha hadn't said a word the whole way home… or even before that, throughout most of school. It had been the first time either of them had seen him in weeks, but he had sat there quiet and unrelenting, his dark eyes taking in what was said without giving rise to any expression, his fingers mechanically tracing letters and words over the simulated screen without any apparent engagement from his brain. He didn't seem to have been sleeping and even his cheeks were hollow and sunken; nor did he say much, he wouldn't even speak at all unless forced to. All day Naruto and Sakura had followed him about like lost sheep, waiting for something – anything – that would prove there was more left in him than the angry hollow outer shell. Their patience had gone unrewarded.

There hadn't been an invitation when they reached his house, but then the front door had been left hanging open and unlocked after the sound of his footsteps had long since disappeared down the empty hallway. The Uchiha's two official best friends had reached a silent agreement to follow him inside. They couldn't leave him alone in the state he was in.

"Not ramen," Sakura replied, answering the question about the food without looking up, "So don't bother asking me for it." She pulled her forest-green blazer from her shoulders and tugged on the sleeves to straighten it. Her eyes stayed resolutely in front of her. Mikoto's yellow apron was hung up on a peg on the wall. A slightly smaller one, in pink with a spiralling flower pattern, was draped right beside it. Mikoto had bought that for Sakura, not long after she semi-surreptitiously started training the girl as a potential bride for her youngest son. It was his mother's strong approval that had caused Sasuke to allow his girlfriend to follow him home every day to begin with. Sakura was under no illusions about that.

"_Da'_, come on," Naruto exclaimed. His shirt's top buttons were wide open and his tie appeared to have disappeared somewhere along the way. Squatting cross-legged by the long low table that had served the Uchiha family, his toes wriggled in the hole in his socks as he kicked up the mud-stained hems of his uniform trouser and sighed loudly, "You know you want to make me ramen really."

Sakura neatly set her blazer on top of one of the granite counters. There was no protruding island in the Uchiha kitchen. Sleek dark walnut wood ran all along the walls instead, interrupted only by the polished oven range and the shining metal fridge as it billowed out upwards into ornate glass-fronted cabinets that sported a carved version of the Uchiha fan instead of handles. The rich wooden panelling stretched all the way up across the ceiling, breaking into a spiralling pattern around the hidden television screen, but the tatami mats on the floor were soft and traditional, if heavily treated against fire and damp. This was useful given that the long low dining table required its user to sit on the floor rather than a chair.

"You know Sasuke-kun hates ramen," Sakura replied coldly, running her fingers over the motion sensor in the refrigerator door. It slid open automatically and the various in build shelves sprang out offering their contents at the slightest movement of her head and body. She rolled up her sleeves, frowning as she examined the foodstuffs.

Her words however had caused Naruto's head to snap up and his eyes to widen. His fists slammed onto the table as he toppled forwards, his mouth desperately attempted to form words. "He doesn't hate ramen, _dattebayo_," he spluttered, shaking his head in fierce protest, "He _datte'_… he hates natto and… and sweet things in general, _'teba'_. He only disapproves of ramen if it's not the type suited to a proper meal, _'bayo_." The verbal tick fell thick and fast from his lips with shock, almost squeezing out the words he was actually trying to say, his breathing rapid and hard with the effort. His torso shook in distress.

Sakura gritted her teeth as she tugged several long thin fish from the bottom shelf. "Well, I hate ramen," she snapped, struggling to balance a fourth fish in her arms.

Naruto's face fell. His eyes closed as the muscles stiffened around his mouth. He had finally realized her lie. "No, you don't," he snorted coolly, not even deigning to give the blatant untruths further credence.

"Fine," Sakura agreed, knowing she was caught. The load in her arms wobbled precariously and she gritted her teeth in concentration, "I don't, but I'm still not making any."

"Alright," he sighed, giving in. He moved forwards a little, rubbing his hand over his forehead and pushing his fringe out of his eyes, "but _please_don't make that fish either. You always miss part of the guts and it ends up tasting like…"

Sakura stopped what she was doing. A muscle twitched in her forehead as her face fell into a scowl. "Don't you insult my cooking, you…" The offending victual hit him in the face as she turned swinging her new weapons by the tail. A second smacked him in the torso and he dived for cover, recovering himself just in time to avoid a third. It was only then that Sakura realised what he had been doing behind her back.

"_Shaannarooo!_ Don't you sit on the table," she screeched, tossing the fourth at his hunched back and snatching up a pot of sugar, "It's not your house. Treat it with more respect!"

Naruto threw his arms over his head, narrowly leaping out the way of a hurl of snow-white rain as he darted for the door. "Fine, Fine… _'ttebayo_…"

A little while later, once Sakura had run out of projectile weapons and was safely fussing over a large pot of a thankfully fish-free curry, Naruto returned to the kitchen and sat nursing a glass of water. It was the only drink Sakura would let him have on grounds that it 'wasn't their house' and Sasuke hadn't 'offered them anything'. Naruto's sense of self-preservation won out and so he made no comment as he chopped up the expensive mackerel Sakura had aimed at his head, which was now going to be served up to the Uchiha's cat instead of the humans.

"Do you think Itachi will be home soon?" he asked instead, taking another sip of his water as he squatted cross-legged on the tatami mats. Putting down the glass, he replaced it with his finger, sucking on it idly as he watched the pleats in Sakura's skirt bob up and down with her movements.

What had once been fish was now a roughly hewn mess on the table in front of him. Uneven unappetising chunks spilled from the small wooden chopping board left, right and centre in, but he supposed it was good enough for a cat… even if it was now slightly laced with his blood. His finger gave a particularly painful smart and he sucked harder in response. It kind of figured: he had spent his whole life training to be good with kunai and shuriken and other objects with sharp edges, but when it came to the common kitchen knife he was hopelessly defeated every time.

"I doubt it," Sakura replied, stirring the curry with a thoughtful expression, "Itachi-san often has to work late and I'm sure that there's loads to sort out with … everything that's happened…" She stopped, even her stirring stilled, as she suddenly became tense and uncomfortable. Her eyes darkened for a minute, the words choking her throat. Shaking her head, she tried again, "Let's just make sure Sasuke-kun eats. He probably needs a good meal…"

Naruto thoughtfully twisted his smarting finger against his lip, his eyes carefully moving upwards until they were tracing Sakura's back. "I dunno if food is gonna make him feel much better, you know?" he began, shifting awkwardly and removing his injured hand so he could talk, "I mean, with… well… _'teba'_…"

Sakura sighed softly. "I know," she agreed, her voice unusually quiet, "But at least we can make sure he's taken care of. It's what Mikoto-san…" She broke off. The muscles in her face twitched violently as she squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in her breath. She swallowed hard, giving the pot a particularly vigorous stir. "You know how he gets when he's upset," she went on, her voice suddenly louder as if that would hide the waiver in it, "He'd forget to breathe if people didn't remind him."

The corner of Naruto's mouth twitched at the hyperbole. His eyes however didn't smile. They just looked sad. "Yeah…"

He pushed the strange lumps of mackerel around on the board in front of him. Then suddenly, as if reaching a decision, he rose from the table piling stray pieces back onto the mound of disseminated flesh and then took up the knife again in his free hand. He trod over to a hidden compartment at the bottom of the furthest counter, he waved a foot in front of the motion sensor allowing it to slide open and reveal a small set of two plastic bowls and a tiny drinking fountain.

He stared at it for a moment. Water trickled continuously into a little white box, draining away from a few small holes in the bottom to be filtered and cleaned, before being pumped back around to begin the cycle again. Wordlessly he scraped the chopped fish into one of the bowls of half-eaten catfood, before tossing both the chopping board and the knife into one of the stainless steel basins of kitchen sink.

At the noise, Sakura turned her head. Her short pink hair swung around her heart-shaped face as she regarded him thoughtfully out of the corner of her eye. "Will you help me take this to Sasuke's room when it's done?" she inquired, indicating the curry, "I might need some help convincing him to eat…"

Naruto nodded, giving her an encouraging smile as he glanced across at her. "Sure, leave it to me, _dattebayo_," he beamed, jerking a thumb at his chest.

"Thanks." She smiled in spite of herself, relief washing through her.

Truthfully, although Sakura often helped Mikoto prepare dinner, she rarely ate what she made. Due to the various full schedules of the older family members, the evening meal was often served quite late in the Uchiha household. That meant Sasuke appeared in the kitchen long before the food was ready and started griping at his girlfriend, pestering and nagging her until she left the house.

Mikoto might have hated his behaviour, but he continued regardless, knowing that if Sakura stayed until after nightfall he would be forced to walk her home just to see she 'got there safely'. Sasuke hated that more than anything. In his opinion she was 'in training to be a ninja' and shouldn't need him to waste his time fussing over her like a baby. She didn't want to upset her boyfriend, so Sakura generally left early of her own volition and he was always there to hurry her into making that five minutes sooner than she had planned.

If Itachi was home he would willingly give the girl a lift in his hovercar, an uncomfortable experience that consisted of heavy silences and awkward questions about her school life, but generally she walked herself, quietly pondering the irony of the fact that being bullied into leaving was probably the most time she spent with Sasuke all evening. Still, she didn't mind. She loved him after all and well… he was just a bit awkward. What was love if you couldn't forgive a few faults?

Naruto stretched his arms over his head, catching them by the elbow as he worked out all the kinks in the muscles. "Do you mind if I put the TV on?" he inquired, already reaching in his trouser pocket for his PCD and fiddling with the control. Obediently a thin black rectangle unfurled from the ceiling, dim mechanical lights flickering on its shiny front. There was a static crackle and then a hologram of man's head appeared just in front of the device. The disembodied dome was sat on an equally simulated small green tray with the words 'Hi no Kuni News' flashing around it in glowing kanji. This had been Mikoto's favourite television channel when she was busy in the kitchen.

Repressing a shiver, Sakura just shrugged, concentrating instead on pouring some of her creation into a small bowl to taste. She scowled the moment she did. "If it saves me from having to listen to you talk," she sighed, reaching for the salt, "Sure."

Naruto narrowed his eyes, giving her a sidelong glare. "You don't have to be that mean, you know?" he mumbled, tapping his PCD against his arm as he folded his limbs.

"Sorry," Sakura sighed, wincing as her hand slipped, inadvertently adding more salt than she intended, "I'm just trying to concentrate…"

"Meh," Naruto sucked on his finger again, regarding her with grumbling forgiveness, "Be careful by the way, I think that curry might be burning…"

Sakura spun around, hissing between her teeth. Curry splattered across the room as she shook her wooden cooking spoon like a knife, her face turning dangerously red. "Why don't you just…"

"Hey!" Naruto yelled, covering his face with both arms, "Don't hit me, _datteba'_! Turn the stove down!"

Suddenly he stopped, his smile gone. Curry sauce ran down his cheek as words droned from the hologram over his head, words that made his blood run cold. Sakura's shoulders shook as she stared up at the screen, the spoon falling from her numb fingers.

"This just in," the news reader announced as a familiar white and red fan appeared behind him, "Konoha authorities have confirmed the identity of the man they have arrested in suspicion of the murders of most the Uchiha family, including most members of the Konoha Police force. Uchiha Itachi, prodigal son of the now-late head of the clan Uchiha Fugaku, is established as the chief suspect in more than a hundred murders of his own close and extended family…"

Their eyes met. Sakura swallowed, "Do you think Sasuke heard that?"

Before her friend could answer there was the sound of a door being ripped open further inside the house. The cat yowled angrily, as footsteps rang on the decking. Someone was running outside, hurtling towards the door in a furious hurry.

Naruto closed his eyes, biting his lip in frustration. "Damn."

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_**(1)**_ Both the house and kitchen btw are the same as those in the manga/anime. The only thing I've done is (vastly) altered the furniture to reflect the much more prosperous Konoha and Ninja World in this story compared with the original. Even the ghettoised Uchiha get to have fancy mod cons in this one, as opposed to that strange pink toaster that I don't think I'll ever get over. It's just so pretty: it's like it's in the wrong house. What kind of an Uchiha has a girly pink toaster? Mikoto apparently. That's who.

_**(2)**_ Kunoichi: a female ninja.


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